Elphaba's Diary
by abovethenightsky
Summary: Musicalverse. 'But I guess that’s the point of keeping a diary in the first place, to be able to say things you could never say otherwise, to reveal a person in these pages that no one else can know.'
1. Looking Back

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Wicked_ or its characters, no matter how much I wish I did.

I just remembered the page in the front of this diary.

Isn't it odd to remember something completely irrelevant after all of your adventures are supposedly over? But the memory got me to pull the diary out of its dusty corner and read its pages once again. It's hard to believe how naive I was back then, when I started writing in this old diary. So young, it seems, though in reality I'm not that much older. But I'm so different now that it's hard to believe the girl in the diary is—or should I say, was—me. And, even though I called it a journal in those years, I realize now what it truly is. I recorded emotions in this little book, not just events, so it really is a diary.

I recall that I left the page in the front blank so I could look back and record my reaction to anything that happened during the span of the entries. I don't think I ever expected so dramatic a change. But now, not so many years later, the Elphaba at the beginning seems like a stranger. That Elphaba became, in turn, an enemy to be shunned and hated, a best friend, a misunderstood witch, a witch's sister, a lover, a real witch, and finally, a woman who is haunted by demons of the past but at long, long last content with who she is.

But the diary speaks for itself. If anyone should find this diary, after Fiyero and I are long gone, I entreat you to burn it, to protect the reputations of the living and the dead. These old demons deserve to rest in peace at last. And perhaps (who knows?) the lives of my contemporaries and me will make an entertaining story one day.

Elphaba Thropp


	2. 1st Entry

**1st Entry**

I'm titling this the first entry because, frankly, dates are not important. They are just measurements made up by people to keep track of time. Besides, if anyone ever decides to read my journal, which I doubt they will, they'll probably read it for the so far pathetic life of a disfigured teenager. Meaning they'll read it for the story. Dates won't matter to you,my imaginary reader. So I won't bother putting them down.

As I write this first entry, the train takes me farther and farther away from my Munchkinland home and closer to what I'd like to think of as a new beginning. Alright, so maybe I'm getting a bit metaphorical. But my home in Munchkinland is the only one I've ever known, and living there hasn't been…easy.

Let me start from the beginning. My name is Elphaba Ilana Thropp, the daughter of the governor of Munchkinland. Some cruel trick of fate saw to it that I was born green, not a normal, healthy shade of pale pink or dark brown or anything in between. My parents viewed me as an abomination, a blemish to the family name. Not that I can recall much of those early years, of course. I only know the facts: Mother became pregnant again, Father tried to prevent the baby from being green by making Mother chew milkflowers, the baby, little Nessarose, came prematurely and was born a cripple, and Mother just…never woke up.

Everyone says that Nessa is "tragically beautiful." Well, she is certainly pretty, with soft brown hair and big, brown eyes. I, on the other hand, am just the opposite. Everything about me other than my black hair (which is usually pulled back in a braid) is green. I'm awkward and say too much and can be short-tempered, while baby Nessa inherited much of the family tact. And if she weren't confined to a wheelchair, she'd probably…well, we'll never know, will we?

I guess, in a way, Nessa's disability is my fault. Father obviously thinks so, as he has made it clear that my essential purpose in life in to take care of Nessa. I can't resent Nessa for this. It isn't _her_ fault that she's confined to a wheelchair. But wherever she goes, I go. When Nessa was sent off to school, I went with her. And let me tell you, reader, the kids at that school were absolutely brutal! The Cripple naturally got more sympathy than The Green Girl, who got nasty looks and horrible nicknames. To make matters worse, whenever I happened to lose my temper, strange things happened. Once the bully's pants caught on fire, which was amusing but got me punished for a freakish accident that I didn't even have anything to do with (or so I believe). Another time, when I was probably 12 years old, these girls who were teasing me mysteriously disappeared and reappeared on the rooftop of the chapel.

But enough about that. Like I said, wherever Nessa goes, I go. So now, as she's headed off to college, I'm with her for no other reason than to take care of her. I'll study there, of course, but if not for Nessa I would probably never even go to college. My father would have probably kept me locked away in isolation for my entire life. If he locked me in a library…I'm a bit of a bookworm, so that might not have been so bad, but I guess I owe a lot to Nessa.

It's actually always been my dream to go to college, get a real life, meet people who don't care about the color of my skin, and not have to be shunned anymore. Not that it's bad being different; I can't imagine what it would be like to have a "normal" skin color. But maybe at Shiz University there will be people who like me for me and aren't blinded by my exterior. Yes, I'm going to Shiz U. I know that it isn't one of the top 5 colleges in Oz, but it is still a good school overall. I've heard much about their sorcery program.

Part two of my dream (see above) is to meet the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. From everything I hear about him he sounds magnificent. Maybe he, of all people, would be able to make me normal. It's a feeble hope, but it's a hope nonetheless. Nevertheless, I'm excited beyond belief to actually be doing something, going somewhere, and maybe, finally, being accepted.

I have to go. The train is slowing down, and I can see the tops of buildings in the distance. We're almost at Shiz (!), and Nessa needs my help with luggage and such.

Yours truly,

Elphaba


	3. 2nd Entry

**2nd Entry**

Both good news and bad. Good news first. When we arrived at Shiz, the Headmistress, Madame Morrible, insisted that she take care of Nessa _personally_. I didn't exactly trust the woman—I was sure the only reason she was paying special attention to Nessa was because Father is the governor of Munchkinland—so I became upset. No, that's a bit of an understatement. I blew up—and Nessa's wheelchair wrenched itself out of Morrible's hands and wheeled itself back to me, to Nessa's embarrassment and my horror. I'm not sure who was more shocked, me or the rest of the student body, but Morrible was absolutely thrilled. She told me that I had a talent. Can you believe it? A talent. After all of these years I've discovered that this freakish trait I have could be the key to getting a career in sorcery. Madame Morrible (who seemed much more likeable after this piece of news, but I guess that's my fickle human side for you) said that because of this "gift" I might have a chance at meeting the Wizard! Even become his right-hand woman! Maybe, if this dream comes true, _if_ I meet him, he'll be able to de-greenify me. Of course, the letter M.M. sent to the Emerald City will take awhile to be answered, for the Wizard is a "very busy man," but once it is…who knows!

However, there is still the bad news:

I'm not rooming with Nessa. Though I know she wants to be independent of me, I'm not sure if it's the best arrangement. I mean, like I said, my main "purpose" for going here was to take care of Nessa…but I guess after the whole "sorcery talent" thing Father couldn't pull me out of Shiz. And even so, I'm not that much of a disgrace to the family name. So never mind.

My new roommate is Galinda Upland. Of the _Upper_ Uplands, as she reminds everyone. I can't stand her. She's petite, beautiful, blonde, rich, has friends who fawn over her, and is possibly the most imperious little snob I've ever met. She thinks that the world revolves around her, and her little posse, Shen Shen and Pfanne (also pretty and rich), seem to believe it. She regards rooming with me as some kind of sacrifice that will raise her to martyr status. It seems like she has the entire school fooled with the innocent blonde act. Am I the only one who can see right through her?

Like I said, she has the entire school fooled and everyone follows her, which means I didn't exactly receive a warm welcome from my fellow students. Quite the contrary. All of my attempts to be friendly were met with glares of contempt. Everyone just seems to want to get as far away from me as possible, and I'm afraid my awkward little display of tactlessness didn't exactly help (I said something along the lines of "What! What are you looking at? Oh, do I have something in my teeth? Okay, let's get this over with. No, I'm not seasick, yes, I've always been green, no, I didn't chew grass as a child…"). I've already been the subject of a few crude puns and such. I guess college will be more of the same. But when I'm with the Wizard…they'll see. They'll all see.

Just something interesting to note—before Father left Nessa and me he presented Nessa with a pair of beautiful jeweled shoes. He didn't give me anything, and even though I don't really want those shoes—a bit too gaudy for my tastes—I wish he would have given _me_ something. That sounds selfish, I know, but I want Father to realize that he has two real daughters who need him and not just one. If he knew that, his parting words to me might not have been, "Elphaba, take care of your sister. And try not to talk so much!" But I can't worry about it now.

Miss Galinda is _insisting_ that I turn out the light so she can get her precious beauty sleep. I should leave it on just to spite her, but…no, I guess not. More later,

Elphaba


	4. 3rd Entry

**3rd Entry**

Again, I'll begin with the good news. I've been at Shiz for about two weeks (sorry I haven't written, I'm still new at keeping a diary) and my classes are all going well. Though the students can't seem to stand me for who-knows-what reason (though I do know, it's because I'm green), I get along with my teachers pretty well. My Linguification class is especially interesting; I love learning about the ancient languages. The only thing that disturbs me is that the only Animal on staff is my History teacher, Dr. Dillamond, a Goat. He often talks about how, years ago, the number of Animals at Shiz was almost the same as the number of humans. It's almost as awkward for him being the sole Animal as it is for me being…green.

Speaking of which, I had a little confrontation with Miss "Perfect-and-Popular" today. I was sitting at a table, alone, just eating lunch, when "Her Royal Highness" accompanied by what I refer to as "the posse" (Shen Shen and Pfannee) approached my humble self. Anyway, she took one look at what I was eating, a salad, and remarked, "Oh look. There's a cannibal on campus."

Shen Shen and Pfanne giggled. It was hard to keep the poison out of my voice as I replied, "Excuse me?"

"A cannibal," Galinda repeated, as if I were slow. "Y'know, as in one who eats her own kind. Like—" her voice dropped to a tone of disgust, "the lettuce, the cucumbers. You know."

I stood up, my hands so tightly clenched in fists that my knuckles turned white. It's a good thing Madame Morrible taught me how to control my magic on the first day, because otherwise those blonde curls would have gone up in flames. "I eat these green _vegetables_," I said, my voice rising as I spoke, "to keep the color _in_ my skin, you should know. (_Blatantly untrue, by the way, but I was too far gone to stop now)_ I can't _imagine_ it's healthy to be so pale like you. What have _you_ been eating, I wonder? Straw? With the cows, I would expect. Eats with cows, has manners like a cow's, it all fits together." Of course, as I said this I mentally apologized for insulting the cows. Though I did see some students at neighboring tables drop their forks on the table instead of taking another bite of their salad, as if eating lettuce would actually turn them green.

"I do not," Galinda spat, "eat like a cow."

"You're right," I agreed. "A cow is more graceful and doesn't slobber as much."

She just blinked at me for a couple of seconds, sweet blue eyes trying not to look offended, then said, "Whatever, Green Bean," flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked away, posse in tow. She had only gone a few steps before this Munchkin boy ran up to her. I barely caught what he said, but it was along the lines of, "Miss Galinda? My name is Boq. Isn't she…" it became incomprehensible from then on, but I had a sneaking suspicion that what he was saying was not in any way complementary. Galinda sighed and rolled her eyes, not in response to what he said but to the boy himself. I smiled. Being plagued by a Munchkin boy was a worse punishment than any words I could throw in her face. It occurred to me that I might have done something with my magic after all, but that was a foolish thought. I didn't think spells could make people fall in love, and even so, it was probably just a crush. The boy would get over himself soon.

I sat down, and just then noticed everyone staring at me. "Well, don't mind me. Just get back to your," I dragged out the last word, pronouncing it with relish, "_salads_." I'd swear that just about half of them looked sick, and no one so much as even touched a salad.

Honestly, I'd say that was the first time anyone ever talked back to "Miss Youthful Beauty." Even though I tried to fix the room assignments, I'm still stuck with her. She finds a way to take all of my traits and twist them into things that she can use against me, as if I weren't loathed enough already. Needless to say, I find ways to get back at her, small ways, but if this doesn't stop soon I'm going to have to develop some kind of master plan to humiliate her. M.M. says I should only use my magic powers for "good," but if I'm good and she's wicked…We'll see how that works out, shall we?

I think in my last entry I forgot to give the other reason Galinda hates me. She came to Shiz for the express reason of studying magic, but when Morrible announced that she would teach me and no others, Galinda got a little…jealous. Yes, the "queen of perfection" can be jealous. Oh, what horror! So in case you, the imaginary reader, did not understand why Galinda makes my life a misery, I'm telling you now.

That's about it,

Elphaba


	5. 4th Entry

**4th Entry**

A very troubling thing happened today in Dr. Dillamond's class. It started out as usual: everyone was sitting in class, and once again my roommate became upset that he had mispronounced her precious name, calling her Glinda, not Galinda.

"I really don't see what the problem is. Every other professor seems to be able to pronounce my name," she said impatiently.

"Maybe pronouncing your precious name isn't the sole purpose of Doctor Dillamond's life. Maybe he's not like every other professor. Maybe some of us are different." That was me, of course. I was peeved at her for paying so much attention to something so petty. Galinda or Glinda, she is still just the same. Selfish.

"Oh! It seems the artichoke is steamed," she retorted.

I felt the all too familiar sensation of anger boiling up inside of me, but Doctor Dillamond called us back to attention. He launched straight into a lesson on the Great Drought, and how the Animals became scapegoats, as it were (Dillamond, of course, being a Goat).

My roommate obviously found it very dry, because she raised her hand once more and again said something very petty. "I don't see why you can't just teach us history instead of always harping on the past."

Doctor Dillamond responded with, "Well, perhaps these questions will enlighten you..." and flipped over the backboard. Instead of the questions we all expected, it said, "ANIMALS SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD."

Dillamond, obviously shaken by the message, dismissed the class early. I told Nessa to go on ahead and stayed behind to comfort him. I was used to name calling and such, and knew that only cowards would do such a thing. Words on a blackboard would harm no one, though it would set tempers running high.

Doctor Dillamond seemed to believe otherwise. He told me that there was trouble brewing in Oz, and that, slowly but surely, Animals were losing their ability to speak. At first it seemed incredulous. A world with just animals and no Animals? Certainly it's impossible. But midway through our talk, just as he was saying how something bad was happening in Oz, something in his voice changed and he said, instead of "something bad," "something BA-A-A-A-A-A-A-D" came out, like a goat's bleating instead of a Goat's voice. And, incredulous though it may seem, for a moment it seemed like something bad might be happening in Oz. But, no, it couldn't happen here, in Oz…

After that disconcerting episode, I couldn't keep my focus at all during my sorcery lesson, and M.M. sent me away, telling me to get some rest. I arrived back in my room in time to overhear Galinda & co. talking about some new guy at Shiz who apparently has a scandalacious reputation. Oh, yes, it seems that my roommate has developed a crush on this…Fiyero, I think, a Winkie prince. They went on and on about the party later tonight, what they should wear, etc.

This just got me thinking. The three of them saw what happened in Dillamond's class and they don't even _care_? How? They who have the power to make a difference in the world, namely the money, the status, they who people will _listen_ to, _they_ don't care, and I bet this new "student," this Fiyero, is no different. If there even is an Unnamed God out there, why couldn't he/she/it give uspeople who care about the world, or at least about something other than themselves, instead of these silly spoiled brats we have? People who know that life isn't one big party, that there is something more important than fancy gowns and hairdos/don'ts and fashion, those are thepeople we _need_. What would our world, our Oz, be like if people _cared_?

I'm feeling a little worn out; I think I'll go lie down. Perhaps I'll visit Nessa later, just to take my mind off of all of this. I'm not even going to think about going to the party.

Elphaba


	6. 5th Entry

**A/N:** For those of you who followed the story on Verdigris, the chapters here will have minor revisions based on criticism, grammatical errors that the author just noticed, etc. Thanks for reading!

**5th Entry**

Now I regret not using the dates, because they would make it so much easier to say that it's the same day as my last entry. I'll just outright say it: same day, but a couple of hours later than my last entry. And so much has changed.

From the beginning. I went and visited Nessarose like I said I would. When I went to her room, adjacent to Morrible's, I found her overjoyed. I began to express my thought over this whole party and the new student, but she cut me off to tell me she had gotten a date for the party tonight. I didn't even get a chance to congratulate her before she rushed into her story about how "Boq was too shy to ask her at first, but once Galinda encouraged him..."

Something didn't fit here. Boq was that munchkin boy I'd last seen mooning over Galinda. Galinda must have pulled some kind of trick, something to make Boq ask Nessa to go with him and stop hanging around her. I opened my mouth to ask more, but Nessa's sharp tone cut me off again with something like:

"Don't you dare say another word against her! I'm about to have the first happy night of my life all thanks to Galinda! Boq and I deserve each other, Elphaba, it's like a dream, and Galinda helped it come true! Please, Elphaba, try to understand."

But if Galinda was involved,could Nessa end up with a happy ending? Then I looked at Nessa. I tried toremember of all of the times I'd seen her this ecstatic about anything. Not one came to mind. I mean, even if this was Galinda's doing, Nessa seemed so...undeniably happy. She was just so delighted and I had to be—supportive. I reluctantly told her that I understood. After all, my role inour incompletefamily is supposed to be the one Nessa stands on, not the one who puts her down.

But I was still suspicious of Galinda. She wouldn't just do something so—something so—so selfless, would she? Surely there had to be something in it for Galinda as well?

I found my roommate in our room, giving some last minute adjustments to her hair and make-up with Shen Shen and Pfanee. They had been giggling about something when I stepped through the door. I began what I thought would be a confrontation with, "Galinda, listen, Nessa and I were talking about you just now..."

"And I was just talking about _you_!" the blonde squealed with a smile. "I thought you might want to wear this hat to the party tonight!"

As she went on and on about the virtues of the hat, I had to stare. Galinda was being civil—more than civil—she was being nice to me? What was going on? This was so different from her prior treatment of me that I didn't even say anything when she pressed the hat into my hands and darted off to rejoin Shen Shen and Pfanee. I blinked at the hat I was holding.

It was a tall black cone with a wide brim. On one side there was a huge black flower. At least it was black, not pink. What had Galinda assured me? "Black was this year's pink," I believe. And if Galinda Upland said it was fashionable, well, it must be fashionable (not that I care about such things, but it might be...interersting to actually own something that could be considered "fashionable"). But that flower had to go. Flowers were just—not me.

I grabbed the scissors and began to pick at the offending object, all the while wondering if this could be the beginning of something. I realized I had to find some way to repay Galinda for what she did for both Nessa and me. But what? What could you get for the girl who has everything?

_Except for those sorcery classes_, something whispered. I sat bolt upright. Of course! She wanted those more than anything. I smiled. I'd talk to Morrible. I'd give Galinda what she wanted. And then…could we really be friends? More of the question: Could I, for the first time, actually have a friend? We'll see. But first, there's the party to go to. Maybe I'll even enjoy myself at my first party. Maybe.

Elphaba


	7. 6th Entry

**A/N:** Thanks to all of those who have reviewed!They have been taken into account andare much appreciated. And sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, as, at some times, life gets in the way of our best laid plans.

With that said, here's...

**6th Entry**

I have really strange news, and even I'm still not sure of what happened. But I guess I should start from the beginning again, because otherwise nothing will make any sense.

I went to the party. Perhaps it was Galinda's complements that actually compelled me to go, or maybe I was curious as to what a party would be like, or maybe just for that same old reason, to look after Nessa. But I went, all the same.

When I arrived (about an hour late), wearing the hat Galinda gave me, everything stopped. The music stopped, people stopped dancing, and everyone stared at me. I'd swear that the room became several degrees colder. Under the pressure of those frosty glares, I wanted to run away as fast as I could. But, no, I thought, if you run, they'll just laugh. Then where will you be, Elphaba? And besides, what's to lose?

With a glare at Galinda, who, clutching her new training wand, looked absolutely mortified, I walked out to the center of the dance floor. I have absolutely no idea how to dance, and because there was no music going I couldn't make anything up. So I did what I knew how to do; I pretended I was casting a spell and made smooth, flowing arm movements and sways. Still, no one moved a muscle.

After a while, I guess Galinda's guilt got the better of her. She left her date, and dared to walk up to me. She _seemed _genuinely sorry, but frankly…I couldn't trust her, now, could I? "May I cut in?" she asked. I said nothing. She began imitating my movements, the arms, the swaying, to the point of perfection. Is it any surprise that I resumed the dance as well? I'm only human. I had my chance to fit in, and I took it. To my surprise the music started back up again and everyone joined in. Galinda just…has that influence on people.

And I think, at that moment, something…something of grew up between the two of us. I still didn't entirely trust Galinda, but there was definitely some kind of twisted tie between us two. I did her a favor, and she repaid me, but there was something more. Some sort of…companionship. It was a new, strange feeling. I looked at Galinda, "dancing" opposite me, and she looked so silly that I just had to smile. I'm pretty sure that she did too.

After we had been dancing for a few minutes, Galinda took my arm—yes, she actually dared to touch me—and pulled me over to her date. I assumed this must be the oh-so-scandalacious Fiyero. From experience, I know that people can't, and shouldn't, be judged by appearances, but what I (and probably most people, for that matter) first noticed about Fiyero Tiggular was that he was strikingly good-looking. Like I said, I'm only human.

So Galinda dragged me over to meet him. "Fiyero," she said, "this is my roommate, Miss Elphaba. And, uh, vice-versa," she concluded, with one of her usual hair-flips and a smile for Fiyero.

Fiyero looked me over, from strange pointed hat to combat boots, and gave a cordial "nice to meet you."

I didn't look him over. I just looked at his eyes. I always look at people's eyes when I first meet them; they can say so much. Usually, eyes hold some kind of fear or hatred when they regard me. His eyes just seemed...curious. No hostility. Which suprised me, really. It must be Galinda's effect. "Charmed," I said.

"Well, now that that's over, who's up for punch? Lemons and melons and pears tonight!" Galinda said, relieved that the two of us actually seemed to get along. Surprisingly, we stuck together and went to get our refreshments in our own little group—the Popular Girl, the Handsome Guy, and the Green Bean. In fact, Galinda wouldn't let me far out of her sight for the rest of the evening. I think she was afraid I would embarrass myself if I was left to my own devices. Or maybe that if we got separated people could come up and ask her "Why are you hanging out with that weirdo?" But this actually worked out to my benefit: people didn't shrink away from me. A couple of them even spoke to me. For once the attention I was getting wasn't negative. And it felt _good_.

I'm writing this on the carriage ride home. Galinda's still here. I thought she'd go back with Fiyero, but no. So far any conversation we've had has been a little awkward. I mean, what she did for me was great, but did she really mean something or was it just done out of pity? Or was this a trap, to lower my guard then set me up for another trick? I don't think she knows exactly what to make of me either.

As of yet, her attempts to start any kind of conversation with me have gone as such:

Her: "What do you think of Fiyero?"

Me: "He seems nice."

Her: "Yeah…"(pause) "He's a really good kisser, too."

Is it any wonder that we haven't done much talking since the dance?

More later,

Elphaba


	8. 7th Entry

**7th Entry**

Where did I leave off? Oh, yes. After that little interlude, there wasn't all that much said between us. But as we were walking back to the room, the tension snapped when Galinda asked, "So, how did you like the party?"

"It was alright," I said as she turned the key. "It was my first party, and…"

Galinda looked at me for a second, then burst out in giggles. No, she was seriously howling with laughter. I didn't exactly know how to react. Was what I said really that funny? Perhaps she had had a little too much punch... She finally gained control again, but the whole mood, the two us just talking, had changed to something like that of one of those fabled sleepovers which I had never had. The effect was only amplified by her request that each of us "share a secret" that we had never told anyone. She said (with one of her squeals) that she and Fiyero were going to be married. In spite of myself, I had to smile at that, but I was completely unprepared when she asked me to tell her a secret.

"Like what?" I looked her straight in the eyes. There was no trace of malice there now, only the twinkle of innocent fun and laughter. _A secret?_ What could I say? That up until now I thought you were a stupid, shallow, blonde witch who only cared about you and thought nothing about anyone else? That I never thought I would ever have this kind of conversation with someone like you? That I had felt that I deeply loathed you, but I just found out that I never really knew you after all?

I always hated people who pre-judged people, because I was always the victim of their assumptions. I would tell Nessa how much I loathed them, and she would half-heartedly agree. Now I know why. It's a weird cycle, that, because I was prejudging the people who prejudged me in thinking that they were stupid or selfish or needed to be cruelly amused by picking on me. But Galinda,as she sat across from me, didn't seem all that or selfish or cruel, only a bit ditzy. She was human, normal. She'd just been put in an unfamiliar and somewhat uncomfortable situation by rooming with me, and had acted accordingly. But really, so had I, if that makes any sense. I'd never been able to see my antagonists like that before. But it was clear now, we had both been the victims of prejudgment, me by her, and her by me.

Apparently I did not come up with a suitable secret fast enough, because Galinda, just joking, grabbed that little green bottle that I keep under my pillow and held it out just beyond my reach, asking me to tell her what it was. She didn't mean any harm, but all I could think about was what would happen if Galinda dropped it, if it shattered on the floor into a million tiny pieces...

"It was my mother's!" I said, raising my voice almost to a shout. Galinda's eyes grew very wide, and I looked away. "That's all…" I muttered. And in truth, that is all. That bottle had belonged to my mother, but I don't know what significance it had had to her in real life. A present from Father, perhaps? A pretty little trinket that she had once purchased? Or maybe the container of an expensive drink she once bought, who could say? But still, that "funny, little, green bottle" is the only thing I have to remember my mother by.

She gently handed the bottle back to me, disappointed, muttering about how "she had told me a really good one." The only emotion I heard in her voice was something that I could describe as juvenile indignation. And it occurred to me that maybe…maybe Galinda never grew up. A life of getting her way all of the time probably kept her from realizing that the world is _not_ all cupcakes and ponies and rainbows served to her on a silver platter, that there _is_ war, poverty, and disease out there and that, usually, there are not happily-ever-afters. But Galinda was spoiled, not ruined. I'm not saying that this was her fault in any way; she just needs to learn. So I decided to tell her _my_ deepest secret.

"My father hates me—" I began. Galinda gasped. "No, that's not the secret." I said, almost amused. Then I revealed how Nessa came to be paralyzed, and how it was my fault. I was almost afraid of her reaction. This was the first person to think I wasn't a freak of nature—would I scare her away with the truth?

Apparently my "truth" was not her "truth." "But that was the milkflowers' fault, not yours," she assured me. "That may be your secret, Elphaba, but it doesn't make it true." At this moment, I knew Galinda had turned her full attention on me. It was almost intimidating. In a perky, blonde way. "Elphie…do you mind if I call you 'Elphie?'"

_Elphie_. In some way the nickname didn't seem to fit me. But when I started to say that it might just be too perky, she continued on anyway, about how she was going to make me her new project, something I really did not need. But Galinda didn't listen. She went on and on and on about why she was helping me and how popular I would be and the benefits of being popular and people who were popular and popular this and popular that—all while she put make-up on me, took off the hat, unbraided my hair, and brushed it out. I never even had time to say "but I don't need to be popular." Truth is, a part of me actually wanted to be _normal _for once. But I don't need to be...

"This is never going to work!" I exclaimed. As I thought about it, it seemed even more incredulous. Me? Popular?

"Oh Elphie, you mustn't think that way anymore! Your whole life is going to change... and all because of me. Okay, stand... I will turn your frock into a beautiful ball gown! Stand up…" I stood up. Galinda waved the wand. "Ball gown!" she commanded. I wanted to tell her that you had to have your feet only slightly apart, that you had to only do one up and down flick of the wrist with the wand instead of waving it around like that, and that the wand was really only a tool to get you to focus. But I let her try anyway. "Is this thing on?" she asked finally, tapping the wand against the bed in exasperation.

"Do you want me to try?" I offered.

"No, no, I've got it!" she said forcefully. She looked at the wand, and then threw it down, as if angry at it for not doing her bidding. "Oh, just wear the frock, it's pretty! Now, I'll show you how to flip your hair…" She demonstrated, then had me follow her example. I'm afraid I need a tiny bit more practice with the hair-flip, but I got the general idea. Then, the finishing touch: a pink flower for my hair, because "pink goes good with green." Galinda showed me my reflection in her pink compact mirror.

I'll admit, I was nervous. I mean, give a freak make-up and she's just a freak in make-up, right? But I looked—I hesitate to say pretty, but that's actually how I looked. Pretty. Not Galinda's kind of beauty—after all, I was still green—but for the first time I noticed how my hair fell around my face, how my eyes sparkled (Nessa always said they were my best feature, but I never believed her), how I wasn't too thin or too fat…I'm not trying to be vain, it's just for the first time I was somewhat comfortable with myself. I glanced at Galinda, who smiled, then back in the mirror. I was so surprised that I didn't even thank Galinda, but ran outside, too, well, too startled to think.

After I collected my thoughts, I went back into our room. Galinda was asleep on her bed. On mine was an outfit, a white blouse and black skirt that I forgot I'd even brought with me, and a note, straight and simple. "Wear these today—Galinda."

How could I have been so wrong about Galinda? Do we really let outside appearances affect judgment that much? I mean, if Galinda had also been green, but still Galinda, would we have gotten along from the start instead of fighting for so long? But, then again, what of the constraints that society forced on Galinda? Being so pretty and popular led people to believe that you were also stupid and shallow. And that is what I think happened to Galinda. She dumbed down to fit a stereotype, the Blonde Beauty/Bimbette. Does that make any sense, imaginary reader (if you exist, of course)? Galinda, the prime example of a stereotype on the surface, probably had to work to become one.

If I become all that Galinda says I will be (which I doubt, but still), I vow never to dumb down like Galinda most likely did.

Elphaba


	9. 8th Entry

**A/N: Short entry this time (accompanied by a longer-than-normal author's note), though under the circumstances it seems appropriate.**

**First of all, I want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed so far. It really means a lot to me to wake up in the morning and find a review in my mailbox. Sometimes they just happen to make my day. And i****f you read the Diary, please review! It lets me know people are still reading.**

**Secondly, in the next few chapters (betweenI'm Not ThatGirl and One Short Day) there will probably be a subplot inserted into the story. If this fools around with Ozian time a little, I apologize, but it seems to make sense (i.e. Immediately after I'm Not That Girl, Madame Morrible says that she knows how upset Elphaba was over Dr. Dillmond "a few days ago"). And besides, that's why this is fanfiction.**

**Lastly, my posting schedule might turn a little erratic due to the fact that the first preformance of the show I'm in is in 12 days and we're rehearsing like crazy.**

**Thanks to again to all who read, and now to the Diary.

* * *

**

**8th Entry**

I'll have to be really brief for now, because we could get called in to see Morrible any minute. I'll make a really short list and elaborate when I have time. I just don't want to forget anything.

1.Dillamond's been taken away. Something about Animals being no longer permitted to teach. Dillamond may have seemed a bit paranoid, but maybe he was right. His replacement is some nutty professor who thinks it's alright to mistreat the Animals. He even brought a live demonstration today, and most of the students in class didn't even have a problem with this. What kind of higher power would allow such a thing to happen? And what the hell is going on?

2. Fiyero and I are in trouble for releasing the Lion cub which was being experimented upon in what was formerly Dr. Dillamond's class. Which is why Morrible called for us in the first place. Heaven knows the kind of trouble we'll be in—but I don't care. We did the right thing. And if Morrible allows something like this kind of torture to happen, I might rather _be _expelled from Shiz. Though when I meet the Wizard, I'll tell him of this cruelty and then

3. Have no time now. To make a long story short, in the midst of all of this chaos I think I might be in love. Not love, maybe, just a crush, but it's on—well—Galinda's boyfriend, Fiyero. And really, all I canthink is "why me?" He's definitely not as shallow or stupid as he pretends to be, but he'd be nuts to choose me over Galinda. My self esteem is not _that_ low, it's just, well, how do you compete with "Little Miss Perfection" herself?

More later (I promise),

Elphaba


	10. 8th Entry Cont'd

**A/N: Well, here we have it, folks. By far the longestentry yet. I know it seems long, especially for a diary, but so much happens in this part. The subplot will appear in an entry or two, but I have to get through the real plot first. Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers (and readers and non-reviewers, I know you're out there!) for your continued support, and now to the Diary!

* * *

**

**8th Entry cont'd**

I marked this "8th Entry continued" because, frankly, 8th Entry original wasn't very explanatory, and this one might as well be called the Explanatory entry. I'm writing it while Galinda is in what I am positively sure is a very sound sleep. But just a warning, imaginary reader, this one will be very, very long.

I couldn't wake Galinda up after she'd fallen asleep in my last entry. She had had a busy night, with the party and the makeover and all that, so I let her nap. It wouldn't be the first time she'd missed class, anyhow. I was exhausted too, but I had a test in Linguification, so I figured I might as well try to pull myself through the day's classes and then come back and collapse.

The day had been going well by the time I had gotten to History. The students didn't stare at me as I walked through the hallways. Random people who I swear I've never spoken to in my life passed me by with a "Hey, Elphie." Even though I knew this attention wasn't for me—at least, as a person—can you blame me, reader, for feeling good about myself, just a little? I didn't exactly feel comfortable in the new clothes, but I think the influence of the smiles I got from passersby made me stand up just a little straighter. By the end of the day, I was in such a good mood that I'd almost forgotten about the trouble there'd been in the last History class.

And then Dr. Dillamond entered the room. He looked agitated, for sure, but I don't think anyone could have been prepared for what he said next, something along the lines of this:

"Alright, take your seats, class! I have something to say, and very little time to say it. This is my last day here at Shiz. I am no longer permitted to teach. I want to thank you for your sharing your enthusiasm, your essays, no matter how feebly structured, and even, on occasion, (_with a glance at me_) your lunch."

No one had time to really process the thought because immediately after Dr. Dillamond finished speaking, Madame Morrible rushed in with an apology. But she wasn't "dreadfully sorry." No one was. No one but me. Dillamond tried to assure me that he would continue speaking out, but I could see right through the ruse; he was worried. Knowing this agitated me even more, but I could only watch helplessly as two men carried Dillamond away. The last words I heard him say were "They are not telling you the whole story! Remember that, class! Remember that."

And just like that, he was gone. He was just…gone. Dr. Dillamond, the only one who I felt really understood me, was gone. No one was sure where they took him, what he was going to do what would happen to him…nothing. I looked around the classroom. All of the students I saw (not including Galinda's boyfriend Fiyero, he was behind me) were just staring blankly at the doorway, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Imagine that! Enraged, and needing to vent at _someone_, I turned to them. "Well, are you just going to sit here in silence?"

Madame Morrible assured me that there was nothing they could do as new Professor introduced himself, then began his "lesson." He eyed the class with his mouth fixed in what was supposed to be a smile but looked to me like a wolf baring its teeth. No, something worse than a wolf. Something even more predatory. He reinforced this impression by introducing the class to something called a "cage;" some kind of crate made out of metal, with a terrified looking Lion cub inside. The Professor assured us that "this remarkable innovation is actually for the Animal's own good."

For his own good? The best thing for a Lion cub is to be running free with others of its kind, not being trapped like this in a classroom full of strangers. It would rather be in its natural environment, I was sure. Maybe with its mother. Where was his mother? Surely a cub this young shouldn't be away from its mother just yet. Couldn't everyone see that this was not, in fact, for the "Lion's own good?"

Apparently not. The Professor spouted some nonsense about how the cub was trembling because he was just excited to be here, or something of that sort. He hit the cage nonchalantly, and I swear I saw the poor Lion jump. The Professor told us that "one of the benefits of caging a Lion cub while he's young is that he never, in fact, will learn how to speak."

This seemed impossible to me. Animals that don't learn how to speak? Why would anyone want that? What kind of sadistic thing would cage Animals to silence them? Are people trying to domesticate them? Animals have always had free will, why should it be taken away? But as the fascinated students moved forward to get a closer look, I realized I was a minority, more so than ever. If I wasn't green, I would have turned red with rage. Shocked, I turned to Fiyero, the only other person who hadn't moved toward that sick cage. "Can you imagine a world where Animals are kept in cages and they never speak?" The Professor continued to speak in the background, something about the cub being agitated, but I didn't, or maybe couldn't, listen. Glancing over at the cub with rising, insuppressible anger, I shouted "Somebody has to…do _something_!"

There was a brilliant flare of light. I felt my anger convert itself to energy and pour out through my hands like it did when I wrenched Nessa's wheelchair from Morrible on the first day of school. All that I could feel now that the anger was gone was pure, cold surprise. The Professor and the students writhed around me in what looked like some kind of horrible, twisted ballet, shrieking in terror and shock. _Great job, Elphaba,_ I thought, _you did it again._

The fatigue from that morning rushed back—using the magic had drained me. I almost felt like collapsing, and, judging from the commotion around me, I would be in a great deal of trouble. And the lion cub needed to get out. I couldn't waste time wondering what had happened. But I knew I couldn't get the cub out on my own.

Fiyero, oddly (or maybe not, but that comes later) was the only one who hadn't been caught in the spell. The way he was looking at me was so different from the way he regarded me before that I was afraid he would just walk away and leave me, but he was actually the one who lifted the cage off the table and ran for the exit. He paused to look back at me and ask, "Well, are you coming?" in a rushed but not completely unkind way. After glancing around at the chaos one last time, I caught up with him at the door and we bolted out of the classroom.

I just glanced at the clock. Two in the morning. Whoever decides to pen their life story in an overly detailed sappy teen-drama sort of way like I'm about to do can only be writing at two in the morning. But I guess that's the point of keeping a diary in the first place, to be able to say things you could never say otherwise, to reveal a person in these pages that no one else can know. I'm afraid I do turn a bit romantic and silly in the wee hours of the morning, despite my "better," more cynical judgment. But the fact that I'm writing to a reader I invented when I was a much lonelier person, not so long ago, should exempt me from having to explain myself. That I'm doing so is further proof that I'm only half-awake, and can be excused from whatever nonsense I happen to scribble next.

On another note, it's a miracle Galinda hasn't woken up yet.

Anyway, Fiyero and I ran out of the classroom, and kept running for who knows how long until we were off of the Shiz campus and deep into the surrounding farmlands. A cornfield, to be more specific, bordered by forests on all sides but one. Ask me how I remembered that and I couldn't begin to tell you, only that I (strangely) seem to be able to recall every tiny detail of what happened.

Fiyero and I set the cage down in the field to…I wish I could say plan a new course of action, that would sound so much more sophisticated. The truth is, we actually fought. Quite a bit. I criticized the way he handled the lion. He thought I thought he was really stupid, I replied "not really stupid." He accused me of causing commotions, I said I was one, and asked him if he really thought I wanted to be this way, if I wanted to care this much. Then I told him that he wasn't really self-absorbed or shallow, because if he was, he would have just left me back there, in the classroom. And that seemed to surprise him, just a little bit. I've always had the "gift" of being able to see through people, and it was obvious from the way he acted that he wasn't really just the carefree prince so many people had painted him to be.

And there was this one point where he was going to leave, and I realized just how much I wanted him there. It wasn't even that I wanted someone with me, but I wanted _him_ to be there. I ran up to him and grabbed his hand, just before he could leave. And…I felt something, something I haven't allowed myself to feel in a very long time, something like my heart somersaulting inside of my chest. And I couldn't help it. I blushed. And while inwardly I yelled at my self for being so immature as to fall for someone, especially someone like him, I'm afraid that I didn' t listen. As I tried desperately to turn my attention back to the cub, I realized that I had fallen, and there was nothing I could do about it.

But I hadn't realized that all that time, I was staring at him. And I was. I hadn't realized that I had been taking in every detail of that handsome face, his nose, his hair, his lips, his eyes. I didn't notice that I'd been memorizing every little detail in the way he walked or how he talked to me. And, now, I can see him as clearly as if we were in the cornfield again, bickering over the cub. It just seems…so silly, to think of Galinda's boyfriend in that way, because a) nothing will come of it, b) I might lose Galinda's friendship if she finds out, and c) I know nothing about him. He might really be shallow and self-centered. I might be wrong. I've been wrong about this kind of thing before...but I can't think about that. Just like I can't think about Fiyero. But I do, and I shouldn't. And I know, in the past few entries I've been using the fact that "I'm only human" as an excuse for my actions. But to be confronted with such an example of my humanity…that's intimidating, in a way.

Enough with the sentimentalities. I can't let myself be this weak. I have to stop thinking about him. There are more important things. Such as Dr. Dillamond. What happened to him? And what can I do about it? I don't know about the rest of the world, but I'm not going to sit here and let them (whoever "they" are) take away a teacher, albeit one of the first who ever understood me. Nothing can distract me from that. Nothing should distract me from that, much less a boy. And I am not, I am not, going to let it.

Oh, I forgot to say what happened after were summoned to Morrible's office. Sorry, I was a little...distracted. Suprisingly, we didn't get into much trouble over the commotion we caused, stealing "school property" etc. She let us both off with a warning. A warning! It seemed incredulous at first, but she proceeded to lecture us on "realizing the erroneousness of our actions" and made sure that we knew she "trusted that we would not put so much as another toe out of line." And I realized, not the supposed "erroneousness" of our actions, but the reason Morrible was letting us off so lightly. I was one of, apparently, the most talented magic students Shiz had ever seen, and Fiyero came from a rich family. Both of us had good reasons _not_ to be expelled. Madame Morrible, I know now, knows how to play the card that will win the most for her and Shiz. Even though this sort of wiliness is something I'd expect to see in a headmistress of a university, and I still respect her, this sickens me, just a little. Can I still trust her?

And now I must absolutely go to sleep, or I am going to be exausted for whatever surprise awaits me tomorrow.

Elphaba


	11. 9th Entry

**A/N: Readers, I'll now dispense with all courtisies and tell you the truth: I adore you all. I really do. To all of you who read the story, feel free to drop me a review and let me know how I'm doing. It can be anything, though no flames please. Constructive (note: _constructive_) criticisms I'll accept, though.**

**With that said, the subplot will be revealed in the next entry, but for now I wanted to show another original incident demonstrating Elphaba and Galinda's early friendship. Though there is _something_ coming, I'll tell you that. But, going over my schedule for the next few weeks ahead, I realized that I'm busy every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday night from now until the middle of March. So, while I'll _try_ to keep posting, the entries might be coming a little more...sporadically. Please bear with me.**

**And now to the Diary!**

**

* * *

**

**9th Entry**

One could say that everything went back to normal after that incident yesterday, but that wouldn't be quite true. I've started getting hostile stares from some of the students again, but not as many as before Galinda decided to befriend me. The students who haven't heard about what happened in Dillamond's last class (or those that choose to ignore it) occasionally talk to me without me having to approach them, and I've learned that some of my fellow students share the same tastes in, say, novels and the like that I do. Galinda, though, tends to try to steer me more toward the rich, popular crowd, which hasn't worked as well as she'd like. Even so, she is constantly flanked by Shen Shen and Pfannee, whose dislike of me is only matched by my dislike of them. I believe that, on several occasions, they have tried to discourage Galinda's friendship with me.

Oddly enough, Galinda and I seem to be becoming closer. She was one of the ones who pointedly ignored what happened in Dillamond's class, or even seemed to take it as a sign that she needed to work even harder at what Fiyero charmingly termed "Galindafying" me, which has, by now, become a bit of a nuisance. But even though we're polar opposites of each other, there are many things I like about Galinda. Her boundless energy and enthusiasm never cease to amaze me, and she can always find some way to make me laugh even when I'm in my sulkiest moods. And although she is a bit of a slave to popular opinion, she has a good heart inside of her. That I know from that night at the dance.

Besides that, it's good to have someone else in Madame Morrible's sorcery seminar, no matter her magical abilities (or lack thereof). We always find ways to keep each other entertained, sometimes unintentionally. And, like friends are supposed to do (or so I've heard), we help each other out.

Take today, for example. We've backtracked a little since Galinda joined the class, and had to practice lighting candles by magic again. The first time I did it, when it was just me in the class, I used a training wand to help me concentrate my power on the one goal: igniting the wick of the candle, simply by flicking the wand and saying "fire." It hadn't been hard, and we'd moved along to the next lesson pretty quickly. This time, though, Morrible let me try it without the wand, with Galinda, who's still trying to master the basics, still using one.

Halfway through the lesson, Galinda got so frustrated that I thought she was going to actually break her wand from waving it so hard. Madame Morrible, trying to help Galinda to the best of her abilities, ducked quite nimbly to avoid being hit by the wand. "Miss Galinda," she drawled, "I understand that you are quite flusterated, but injuring me or Miss Elphaba with your wild wand-waving is not going to solve anything. Now, more gently."

After a few more tries from Galinda and a few more near-injuries for Madame Morrible, M.M. muttered a far-fetched excuse about needing to rest for a minute and left the room. Galinda looked disappointed, although she kept trying to pretend nothing was wrong. It wasn't her fault, really. She just doesn't have the gift of magic. But she has the potential for so much else, and she just can't see it. She's peppy, friendly, smart when she wants to be (she'd never admit it, but there are brains under those curls somewhere) and drop-dead gorgeous, and yet she's so fixated on this one thing that she cannot have. Just human nature, I guess. But seeing her so unhappy bothered me. There was surely some way to cheer her up. And then it hit me.

After much coaxing from me, Galinda decided to try again. As she flicked her wand, I murmured "Fire," under my breath. Sure enough, the candle lit itself. Galinda squealed with surprised delight then pointed her wand back at the candle and commanded it to go out. With my help, the candle was extinguished. After a few successful attempts (Galinda had so much fun after the first that I could not let her down for the rest), Galinda's squealing brought Madame Morrible back into the room.

This is where it got a little tricky. Of course, M.M. wanted to see a demonstration of Galinda's newfound powers, but as Galinda positioned herself in front of the candle M.M. kept one eye on me. She knew Galinda didn't have any real power, of course, and was going to watch me to see if I had anything to do with this candle trick. So, I did something I had never done before. I thought the command for the spell instead of vocalizing it. As Galinda said "Fire" and I thought it, I kept my face impassive but inwardly willed for it to work. And it did. I can't say who was more surprised, me or M.M., but Galinda was very pleased with herself. After a few more demonstrations, M.M. dismissed us.

As Galinda ran off to tell her other friends what had happened and I gathered up my books, M.M. appraised me warily. When I left the classroom, she only said four words, "You're learning, Miss Elphaba." Four words to let me know that she knew about my charade with the candle. Four words to tell me that, while she might not have approved, she'd recognized that I'd made progress. I know I don't need the approval of someone like Madame Morrible to make me feel complete, but it was, in a way, reassuring.

Galinda returned to our room an hour later than I did. I assumed she'd been out with friends for awhile, but she'd apparently spent most of her time not with Shen Shen and Pfannee, but with Fiyero. I have to admit, when she said "Fiyero" my heart involuntarily skipped a beat. I need to learn to control myself, or I'm going to ruin my relationship with the closest friend I have. But when Galinda mentioned something about him being "a little different, though," I started paying closer attention. I asked her what that meant, and she said something along these lines:

"Oh, I don't know, Elphie. That's the problem. It's sort of like he's not entirely with me, y'know? He's—he's moodified. It's only just a little bit; I bet he just didn't get enough sleep or something. Anyway, he and I—"

Galinda just continued on as if nothing had happened. But that's Galinda, always more willing to brush away her problems as if they're nothing than to actually face facts. If there were any facts in that statement to face, that is. But I shouldn't be caring so much about what happens in the life of my friend's boyfriend, and I'm going to have to get over myself. It's hard to pretend to stop caring, though. I know I shouldn't be such a fool, especially not for someone like him. Not when there's so much else I should be caring about.

And now I have to stop writing before I wake Galinda up. I just saw her stir.

Elphaba


	12. 10th Entry

**A/N: Here it is, a subplot. It'll be short, probably only about 4 or 5 entries, but it will be a nice little diversion from the plot. Oh, and for sesshomaruobsessed (yay for Inuyasha!), who wondered if Fiyero would talk to Elphaba anytime soon, you have your answer here. Kudos to blufair, Kennedy Leigh Morgan, Phosporescent, Greenhell, Born2BBad, and sesshomaruobsessed for their reviews. Also, forgive me if some of my words smush together (yes, smush _is_ a technical term), something seems to be wrong with the story; whenever I come back to it, some of the spaces between the words are gone. I apologize for the inconvenience.

* * *

**

**10th Entry**

It seems that my outburst in Dr. Dillamond's class has set off another (and not unwelcome) chain of events.

When I was eating lunch with Galinda and "the posse" (Shen Shen and Pfannee) one of the other not-popular girls came up to me. I recognized her from my Logic class. Her name is Leane, an unassuming girl with vivid red hair, glasses, and (obviously) normal-colored skin. I've talked to her a couple of times, mostly just monosyllabic conversations ("Oh, may I sit here?" "Sure." Just to give an example) and she seemed kind of quiet, but that's really all I know about her. She seemed nervous around Galinda and the posse, though, so I went to talk with her privately. Besides, I was sure the posse was about to turn up their identical button noses at Leane, so it waseven better that we left.

Leane led me to a table where about 10 other students were sitting. She introduced them all, but their names escape me, except for Blaine, her boyfriend. I remember, though, that I recognized all of them as rather unobtrusive people, though they were some of the people at the top of the class here at Shiz. They smiled at me politely, and I recall thinking that I could fit in among them-the intelligent, bookworm types. They didn't even seem to care that I was green.

Leane told me that my standing up for Dr. Dillamond and Animal Rights in History class inspired them to get their acts together and do something about the injustice in Oz. I have to admit, I was surprised. They seemed like a shy bunch. Good-intentioned, yes, but a little meek. When I told Leane this (using different wording, of course) she laughed.

"Well, that will make it all the more effective," she said. "Everyone has these kinds of opinions, and maybe if people see that we, the quiet ones, are expressing them, then it will motivate them to take action."

Blaine spoke up. "We weren't exactly thinking of doing what you did in History the other day. Something more like a peaceful protest, saying that it was wrong to force Dillamond to resign and that he should have his job back."

Well, they had a point. It may be against school rules to magic the students and steal what is considered to be "school property," but surely no one will object to a peaceful demonstration, right? So I agreed to help them plan the protest. I have to say, I'm not sure how much good one group of students protesting will do in the scope and scale of things, but for now it will be a satisfying way to vent at my not being able to do anything about Dillamond's forced resignation. And, who knows? It may help.

Speaking of Dillamond's resignation, History hasn't been History since he was forced to leave. No, instead of History we're being taught "World Events from the View of People Who Want to Pretend that There is No and Never Has Been Any Corruption in Oz." Since that's too long of a name for a class, they're still just calling it History. I mean, some of the students found Dr. Dillamond to be dry, but at least he told the truth! It's infuriating. I almost exploded again today when the teacher pretended that the Great Drought had never existed, and that it was merely the teaching of a senile old Goat. Fiyero had to hold me back by reminding me that I would be in huge trouble with Morrible if anything happened, and even then I was reluctant to suppress my anger.

Oh, Fiyero. Well, at least I can utter a coherent sentence in his presence now. Not that I wasn't able to before, it's just that it was all sarcasm and…well, let's just say I have no trouble talking to him now. Yes, I'm still nervous, yes, I still get the butterfly in stomach feeling that people say goes with this kind of thing, but I can talk to him without having to resort to sarcasm. Isn't that just wonderful? And I realize that I actually like talking to him; it's fun. He's so funny, and he's smarter than even he thinks he is, if that makes any sense. But it's weird; he acts completely differently around Galinda. Sometimes I think they don't talk at all. Ah, well, what is it any of my business? He's not mine to worry about. Let's just see how the protest goes tomorrow. One event at a time, thank you.

More later,

Elphaba


End file.
